You Are Only 20?!

Hmmmm. Where did I leave off last time? Ah yes, before my first day of work. Excuse me while I chuckle a second. Work, ha ha. This has not been work. Read more if you dare, to learn some and be aware! [cue lame, brooding string music].

Monday I awoke around 5am, 4am in EST, and grumpily prepared myself for the first day. I had no idea what to expect, because I didn´t really have a set schedule. It was more along the lines of "eh, you go to Mackenzie, talk to students, see some classes, do things, and voilà! You have helped connect Pittsburgh and Mackenzie and have informed every student about Pitt and the city." We rise so early each morning because of the potential for extremely constipated traffic flows. Fortunately, there aren´t any in the mornings it seems. We arrive at Mackenzie around 7am. On Monday, I had nothing to do until after 10am, because the director I was supposed to meet was away in meetings until then. So, I had much of the morning to wander campus by myself, feeling like a complete outsider who didn´t belong.
Mackenzie has a nice campus; it´s enclosed by a wall due to potential security risks, I suppose. Downtown Sao Paulo isn´t where you´d choose to have a tea party at 3am, if you know what I mean. The walls, though, do make the campus feel smaller and more together. Also, there are many trees and plants around the campus, and since all of the foliage is tropical or subtropical, it looks extra special to me.

Anywho, after wandering around campus in loops for an hour and wondering if the security guards thought I was a terrorist, I left campus to try and find a bank to withdrawl money from (my Visa debit and credit cards for some reason fail to work in all ATMs). I wandered the streets, acting as if I actually had somewhere to go and wasn´t a gringo who had only been in the country for 24 hours. I tried the ATM of another bank, and it failed, of course. How dare something work like it´s supposed to. I decided then to actually enter a bank and talk with someone, even though my Portuguese accent was probably as accurate as that of a mollusk. I spotted my victim, and saw customers walking into the bank. I approached a glass rotating door, and began to enter.

CLUNK. The door was locked. But I was too dumb to realize that. I pushed again, perplexed that doors outside the USA actually did need "sesame" to open. And then I pushed again, and again. Finally, my stupidity caught the attention of a young security guard inside. He approached and began to speak to me whilst I continued, dumbfounded, trying to open the stupid door. Finally, when I could only respond to him with distressed baby babble, he said, "You don´t speak Portuguese?" Rats! I´d been had! Like a dog caught eating trash or an expensive table leg, I responded humbly, "not much." With a red face, I asked him where I could exchange money. Another man, probably a teller, told me that there was another branch but I´d need to take a bus. Part of me wanted to slap him and say, "Did you just watch me running into a locked door? Do you think I´m capable of taking a bus?" Another part of me just wanted the ground to open up so I could die. At least magma won´t judge me.

Tail between my legs, I walked back to campus, quite a bit embarrased and downhearted. The one professor told me that I could attend the remainder of a Portuguese for foreigners class. I obliged, glad that no one near me had been in the bank.
The class was two professors who seem to have enough time to devote entire mornings to teaching a couple of Korean Samsung employees how to speak. I came to the class and tried to put prior events behind me. The people were nice, but I could answer very few of the questions asked of me in Portuguese. Finally, the class ended, but one of the professors offered to go with me to a good por quilo to eat. (Intermission: por quilos are a very popular place to have lunch in Brazil. One grabs a tray and loads it with whatever foods they want from the hot and cold bars, then one can select some freshly grilled meats. At the register, the price is simply calculated by total weight, not specific contents [with the exception of grilled meats, fruit, and drinks]). Anyway, on the way there, the conversation was sparse, and it didn´t improve much during the meal, nor on the way back. The professor knows English, but the point is for me to learn Portuguese. I could say very little, and he had to repeat questions multiple times. I felt sorry for him. After lunch, I was to join a class for students learning Spanish, and later watch informal interviews for potential English language tutors.

At first I was nervous about speaking Spanish. 1) I´ve only spoken it sparingly in classes with Americans whose accents are absolutely atrocious, and 2) these people speak português, and thus they´re likely to know a thing or two about español. My fears quickly dissipated in class, however. The students, while good at Spanish, weren´t wizards. And the teacher kept commenting how bonito my accent was. After that class, I felt pretty good. Somehow the American spoke better Spanish than those who speak a romance language. I then joined the meeting/interview for English tutors. After that class, a couple of students offered to show me around campus. I was grateful to be accompanied by people in the know who also spoke English well. They promised to show me around again sometime. Another student from the tutor group offered to show me around Sao Paulo if I needed, and she wants me to talk to her boyfriend about Pitt, which he is considering attending. (Side note, Prof. Giancarlo´s oldest daughter is contemplating attending Pitt next year). Anyway, my day ended on a much better note than it started. I had almost completely forgotten what an idiot I am and instead began to see the incredible Brazilian hospiality.


Tuesday, waking early again. This time I was determined to start on the right foot. Or the left. Whichever foot allowed me to avoid locked doors at banks. 8-10am, Portuguese for foreigners. However, instead of being a complete stranger to the language, I had now had about 48 hours to adjust to its unique sound. The prof. gave me a textbook to use. I began speaking, albeit limited, with more confidence. By the end of the class, the professor was commenting to my coordinator how fast I was learning. Yay. Also, the Koreans in my class are very kind. It´s strange, somewhat, when you realize that the guy next to you in class who talks like a student, sounds like one, dresses like one, is actually a 35 year old who works in Samsung´s printer division. Samsung makes printers? Who knew. The two Korean´s and I went to the same por quilo as the day before. I actually talked in Poruguese. They understood me (mostly). It was good. Later I went to sit in on another Spanish class. This one was full of friendly people again, and afterwards a guy told me he wanted to meet sometime to practice his English and help me with Portuguese.

That evening, I went to two English for adults classes. These people are retired, in the 50s or 60s, and have chosen to learn English. The one class was for beginners, and they asked simple questions that one expects in any level one course. But the other class was more advanced. About 15 women and 1 man, and some of them were quite animated. I stood infront of the class answering questions (the same questions that I answer in every single class I visit. The age one always ends in, "No, 20? You are so young!" and then muffled whispers in Portuguese likely pertaining to my youth) And then the "Queen" entered. Self-proclaimed Queen of Scotland. She tries to crack more jokes than I do (I hope mine are wittier).

Anyway, as soon as she entered she skipped most of the warm and fuzzy get-to-know-you crap and went for the juggular: how do you like the Brazilian girls? This is a topic that many adults here seem to be interested in, does Mr. American boy like all our pretty women. Every time someone asks, I just smile and say of course, because 1) I bet it´d be rude here, too, to say "No, actually, they are hideous and I would rather kiss a rock" and 2) Brazilians are always joking in a friendly manner. But imagine if you´re a guy in a class in America, you´re standing in front of fifteen 50+ year old women that you only met ten minutes ago, and they ask you how you like the girls and if you´re single. Then they suggest that you become their boyfriend and teach them English. Then they make some probably vulgar jokes in Portuguese that you don´t understand.

They were writing stories in class based on pictures they randomly pulled from a hat, just like we do in language courses. Two of the stories involved me getting married, and in one of those I married the professor (a woman) of the class. If you missed it the first time around, people here are very open. In my Portuguese for foreigners class the prof. told us how Brazilian fathers used to buy their sons prostitutes to turn them into men. This does not seem a likely topic to discuss for a few minutes in any class at Pitt. In the end, I can´t fault the old women. They were truly excited to practice English with a native speaker, and they insisted I come back to class next week and to their end of semester party at the end of June.


Wednesday, 5:30am wake-up, class 8-10 and beyond, another por quilo lunch and then I visited a studnet run ad-agency at Mackenzie (think Pitt News but for marketing). Yet again, the incredible Brazilian hospitality was, uh, incredible. They all helped me with Portuguese, wanted to practice their English, offered their emails and phone numbers in case I needed help, and said they´d take me around Sao Paulo and show me everything.

If you have survived this light-year long post, take away at least this: Brazilians are so ridiculously kind and caring and open. Every student and professor I have meet is so friendly, offering complements, advice, and help if I need it. The students want to help me fit in and have friends. People practically adopt you. Classes reflect this open friendship (at least all of the classes I´ve been to: language classes). Professors and students joke with and tease one another, everyone is chiming in all the time and talking, there is laughter, and students and teachers digress from lesson plans for 10 minutes at a time.

It´s wonderful. And maybe the girls are good looking, too.